She ducked inside and I followed her without protest.
The tent was crowded. Besides Jolin, Petrov, and Marcus, there were four others present: two men and two women. The strangers did not wear armour, which I took to mean they were non-combatants—crafters.
The commander’s gaze flicked our way. “Good, we’re all here now. Tara, Jamie, have a seat please. I will spare us all the introductions. We have much to go through tonight.” Her eyes rested on me briefly. “Doubly so after Jamie’s latest adventure.”
In the midst of taking my seat, I paused. Jolin’s glance had been indecipherable. Yet there had seemed to be a hint of something—concern perhaps?—to her scrutiny. I shot my own look at Tara, wondering what she had included in her report to the old lady. Probably everything.
“Before we dive into the details,” the commander continued, “Petrov, please present your report on the state of our defences.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Petrov, his voice a dull rumble. “Our forces stand at one thousand, two hundred and sixty-five. Two hundred and thirty-two are experienced fighters above level twenty, about six hundred are new fish below level ten, and the remainder fall somewhere in between.”
I winced at the numbers. About half the commander’s fighting force were raw recruits. For those ratios to hold true, the Outpost’s daily losses had to be high.
“How many new arrivals did we get today?” asked one of the male crafters.
Petrov consulted his notes. “Eighty-two that survived.”
A blond woman gasped. “Why so few? That’s a sharp drop in numbers. Were our losses from this morning’s river battle that bad?”
Petrov shook his head. “The reverse, actually,” he said, darting a look in my direction. “Thanks to our mage, the murluks barely scratched us today.”
“Why the drop, then?” asked a brown-haired man, his tone tinged with worry. “And what do we do about it? Without a steady supply of recruits from Earth, we’re doomed. We all know that.”
The other crafters jerked their heads in agreement.
Petrov opened his mouth to reply, but the commander waved him to silence. “The numbers of new players entering from Earth has been dropping steadily,” she said, fielding the question herself. “We have known it for some time now.” Her expression turned grim. “I expect the numbers to drop even further over the next few days. There is nothing we can do to control who enters the gate and when. We must assume the worst.” She held each of her subordinate’s eyes in turn. “I expect all of you to plan accordingly.”
Silence fell in the wake of Jolin’s pronouncement. The commander let it draw out for a moment before continuing, “Thank, you, Petrov. Marcus, proceed with your report please.”
The slim and neatly attired captain stood up. “Our complement of hunters and scouts stand at sixty-five.” His lips thinned. “We lost four more in the forest today. As near as the recovery teams could tell, both pairs of scouts were killed by a four-footed predator. This is the third loss we have suffered in the forest in as many days. The same creatures seem to be responsible in all the cases.” He paused. “But we can’t be certain. No one has caught sight of the beast yet.”
No one living, he meant. I shivered. To my mind, the forest sounded a lot worse than the foothills. I was doubly glad my own party had headed north today.
Marcus’ eyes roved across the assembled men and women. “Once more, please urge your people to volunteer for scout duty. I know many are afraid to venture beyond the safety of the camp, but we need more scouts.”
Marcus was openly pleading with his fellows now, the desperation in his voice undisguised. The others shifted uncomfortably and looked away. “Please,” he went on, “we can’t secure the region otherwise.”
Jolin laid a hand on Marcus and the captain breathed in deeply to calm himself. “On a more promising note,” he continued, “the foothills to the north have been cleared.” He nodded in the direction of Tara and me. “I’m sure Tara will have more to add on that later.” He sat back down.
“Thank you, Marcus,” the commander said. “The scouting situation is grave. Please heed Marcus’ call, people.” She turned to the first of the crafters. “Soren, your report, please.”
The brown-haired man stood. He was sturdily built and had large, calloused hands. “Work on the palisade is progressing steadily,” Soren began without preamble. He nodded to the three captains. “With the soldiers stopping the murluks from destroying our earthworks, construction on the west-facing wall has advanced smoothly. I expect the first phase of the riverside palisade to be completed tomorrow.”
A sigh of relief ran through the tent.
“Phase one?” I whispered, leaning in close towards Tara.
“Erecting the wooden fence itself,” Tara whispered back. “On their own, the walls should be enough to keep out the murluks, but the commander doesn’t want to stop there. She wants the walls to be more than a deterrent. She wants our men to be able to patrol atop them, and she also wants guard towers, fortified gates, murder holes, and the like. But for all that to happen, the walls need to be reinforced. That’s the second phase: adding brickwork.”
I nodded thoughtfully. The old lady was thinking ahead. If she managed to realise her vision, I imagined the Outpost would be become a formidable settlement indeed. Finally realising Soren was still speaking, I turned my attention back to him.
“… but progress on other sections of the wall is not going as well. While the trenchwork has been completed all around, we don’t have enough timber to ring in the entire settlement.”
Soren sat down. Not waiting for the commander’s go-ahead, the other male crafter immediately leapt to his feet. “I sympathise with Soren’s concerns, I really do,” he said. “But you all know the conditions under which we are working. Until my people get better tools—saws, axes, shovels, and so on—logging cannot proceed any faster. My men are working as fast as they can, but we need better equipment!” He sat down in a huff and crossed his arms defensively across his chest.
“Thank you, Albert,” the commander said. Her voice was even and neither rose to the crafter’s challenge, nor backed away from it. “We understand the limitations your men are working under. The soldiers are likewise incapacitated. Your people are to be commended for their efforts thus far.”
Albert grunted in acknowledgement, and Jolin turned to one of the women. “Melissa, what is the progress from our smiths?”
The woman sighed. “Slow,” she admitted. “We are still struggling to get the forge going. And until we do, we can’t create any of the tools we need.”
Marcus lifted his head, a grimace on his face. “So still no luck melting the murluk spearheads?” he asked.
Melissa shook her head. “None. We’ve tried everything we can think of. But my people haven’t given up. We’re still trying.”
Jolin’s lips tightened. It was the most concern I had seen her display in the meeting so far. “See that your people keep at it, Melissa,” she said softly. “We need those tools.”
Melissa ducked her head. “Yes, ma’am.”
Jolin turned to the last woman. “Beth, we’ll skip your report for today. I know things are progressing well on the food front, at least.”
Beth bobbed her head in agreement and the old lady turned her attention back to the room at large, letting her eyes rest on each of her subordinates in turn. “So, now you all know our sad tale of woes,” Jolin said. “I know it’s tough, people. I know there are challenges, some seeming impossible.” Her eyes hardened. “But no more excuses. We are running out of time. If we don’t want what we’ve built here to slip through our fingers, we must come up with solutions. Get creative, people.”
Albert shot to his feet, his mouth opening to protest.
“Sit down, Albert,” Jolin said. Her tone was mild, but there was no mistaking the steel behind it.
Albert sat, face reddening.
“Now,” continued
the commander, “I believe we have one additional deadline. Tara, will you?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tara said, rising up. “Through Jamie’s efforts, we’ve managed to clear out the warren of brown spiders in the foothills. The Trials have classified the warren as a lair, which both Jamie and Marcus tell me is a good thing. Once we’ve bound the lair to the Outpost, the spiders birthed in it will be tamed and ours to command.”
A low murmur of surprise rippled through the room.
“There is a catch however,” Tara said. “If we are to retain ownership of the lair, we must establish the Outpost as a settlement within four days.”
“Impossible!” Albert exploded, but at glance from the commander he subsided and shrank back in his seat.
“The lair is an invaluable resource,” said the commander. “And it has fallen into our lap thanks to the good work of Jamie, Tara, and their team. We dare not lose it. We will make that timeline.”
This time, no one protested the impossibility of the task. “What do we need to establish the settlement, Marcus?” Jolin asked.
Marcus raised his left hand and began ticking off points on his fingers. “One: a population greater than one thousand. As of today, with combatants and non-combatants, all told we are sitting at just under two thousand. We meet that requirement comfortably.”
“Good,” replied the old lady. “Next.”
“Two: a guard complement of a hundred at the Trainee rank. Another requirement that we easily fulfil. Three: food stores sufficient for one week. Also, check. Fourth and most problematically: controlling access into and out of the settlement.”
“Which means finishing the palisade,” said the commander.
“Which means finishing the wall,” agreed Marcus.
Jolin closed her eyes in thought. A moment later, she opened them. “Logging trees is now our top priority,” she announced. “Albert, Melissa, drop everything else. I want you two to go away tonight and come up with a plan.”
Albert opened his mouth, but Jolin held up her hand. “I am not finished. Albert, you may conscript whoever you need from the other crafters. Beth’s people, especially, can be spared right now. Melissa’s too.”
“I still want to keep a few people working on the forge,” Melissa said, speaking up quickly.
“You may,” said Jolin. “But no more than a handful.” The commander turned back to the logger. “Will that suffice, Albert?”
Albert’s eyes narrowed. “What about the soldiers?” he asked. “Can I draw from their numbers too?”
Jolin shook her head. “No, you cannot. The murluks remain a threat. Until the wall is up, the spearmen are our main defence. I will not weaken our forces on the river.”
She made no mention of me, I noticed.
Albert scowled and muttered under his breath, but didn’t argue.
Jolin seemed satisfied with his response. “Very well, that’s settled. Albert, Melissa, tomorrow I expect to hear your plan. Understood?”
The pair looked visibly unhappy, but knew better than to protest. Reluctantly, they nodded their agreement.
“Good, then you are all dismissed. Jamie, stay awhile please.”
✽✽✽
It seemed that my audience with the old lady was to be a private one. Jolin waited for all the others, including Tara, to leave before turning to me.
“You keep surprising me, Jamie,” she said, shaking her head. “Tara told me of your fight against the queen. I must say, I am impressed and… disturbed. Once again, you’ve accomplished another seeming impossibility. Thank you.”
I shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise. “Just doing what needs doing, ma’am.”
She smiled. “Oh, but I think it’s more than that,” Jolin said. Withdrawing something from her pocket, she held it out to me. “Do you know what purpose this serves?”
I looked at the object in her hand. It was the champion core from the spider queen. “No. I do have a few guesses though. Nothing I am ready to say for certain just yet. But whatever the core’s purpose, I am sure it is both valuable and important.”
“Marcus said the same,” mused the old lady. She set the core on the table. After walking to the tent opening, she stared out into the night. “I doubt I’ll ever understand how this world works, Jamie. How things like that spider queen can even exist, or what that stone is, or even how humanity landed up here.” She shook her head. “It’s all beyond me.” The commander swung around and held my gaze. “But it is not beyond you.”
“You do yourself a disservice, ma’am. I may understand aspects of this world better from my… uh, gaming experiences. But you have done alright—more than alright, to be honest. All these people would be lost without you. They need you.”
The commander smiled. “Thank you for that, Jamie. And you are right, they do need me. For now. But only for now. Their future will be in the hands of people like you, Jamie. People like Marcus. People who understand this world better.”
“That is not a burden I wish to bear, ma’am,” I said softly.
Sadness shone through the commander’s eyes. “It is not a matter of choice, Jamie. You will learn that one day.”
I knew where this conversation was leading now, and I knew what Jolin wanted. I stayed stubbornly silent. What she wanted of me wasn’t in me to give. I had my own mission. Someone else would have to look after the Outpost.
“You know what I am going to ask of you, don’t you, Jamie?”
The old lady was scarily perceptive. “I can’t stay, ma’am.”
Her eyes narrowed. “That is not true, Jamie,” she said, her voice thick with disappointment. “You can. But you won’t.” Sighing, she turned away. “Go. You’re dismissed. And take the core with you. It’s yours by rights.”
I shuffled uncomfortably, shocked by her abrupt dismissal and unaccountably ashamed. She asks too much, I thought, struggling to hold to my anger, but my heart wasn’t in it.
Saying nothing, I grabbed the core and made my escape.
Chapter 28
390 days until the Arkon Shield falls
I ducked into my tent, emotions in turmoil. For a long time, I sat alone in the darkness, staring at nothing.
I had been elated by our successes today. I’d felt that I had accomplished something good, both for my own cause and the people here. And while the conference had underscored how desperate the Outpost’s situation was, it had not taken away from what Tara, I, and the others had achieved.
The commander though… her words had spoiled all that. In her eyes, I was obstinate. Willful. Wayward. But I wasn’t—was I?
I knew what Jolin wanted. She’d have me bind myself to the Outpost and sacrifice myself—as she had—for the people here. But I couldn’t. I had my own cause. An important cause. I couldn’t take up her own.
“Who does she think she is?” I growled. Why can’t she be satisfied with what I am willing to give? I had promised to stay until the settlement was established. It was still a promise I intended to keep. But after that?
I would leave. I had to.
How dare she try to shame me into staying. I had made clear from the very beginning that I wouldn’t join the Outpost. Her people were not my responsibility. Leaving did not equate to abandoning them. They had never been mine to begin with. Their fate was not my burden to bear. It was unfair of Jolin to ask that of me.
But was it?
What is the right choice here? I wondered. To stay and try to build the Outpost into something more, into a second home for humanity? Or to venture out and seek my vengeance?
Is vengeance ever the right choice?
I shuddered, feeling my purpose waver. In spite of myself, I was swayed by the commander and her demands. It was a seductive proposition. To join the Outpost and put down roots. To grow the settlement with Jolin, Tara…
No. I trembled. I couldn’t let myself forget why I was here. “Vengeance,” I whispered. “I live only for vengeance. I must pu
nish Mum’s killers.”
Yet even to my own ears, my conviction sounded weak. Bowing my head, I rocked back and forth. In desperation, I let memories of my last moments on Earth resurface. Mum’s death, perfectly preserved in the deepest recesses of my psyche, replayed through my mind.
Tears rolled down my face as I relived the moment. Oh, Mum, I miss you. Then grief burned away and horror dug its fingers into me once more. Hate caressed me. Rage consumed me. And finally, my thirst was rekindled. Thirst for orc blood.
I remembered now. I remembered who I was. Why I was.
I sealed away the horrific memories again, burying them deep within my psyche once more. They had served their purpose. Clarity of thought had returned.
I knew what I needed to do.
I could do good in the Outpost. I could get strong here and do right by the commander and her people. Especially now, when they were beset on all sides. But after that? Once the settlement was established, they would not need me.
And I wouldn’t need them.
Staying indefinitely would only hold me back. The right course would be to leave. I was certain of it.
I pursued vengeance. I knew that. But it wasn’t only revenge I craved. My hatred was not senseless. It was with purpose. A purpose that I hoped—no, knew—advanced humanity’s own cause. The orcs were mankind’s enemy. They had to be opposed. Or soon, what little remained of humanity would be under their thumb.
Taking the battle to the orcs might not be the right thing for the Outpost—not now, anyway—but it was the right thing to do. I had to believe that. This one settlement, however strong, could not stand alone against the tide of orcs that would descend upon it one day.
My fight was to kill orcs. Not to defend the settlement.
My purpose wasn’t to protect. But to avenge. For Mum. For all of us.
✽✽✽
I fell asleep after that.
Overworld (Dragon Mage Saga Book 1): A fantasy post-apocalyptic story Page 26
